by Tricia Goyer
Her cheeks turned pink under his gaze. “What do you mean?”
He chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s a good thing.”
“I do love this.” She swept her arm around the garden. “And I love having a garden even more after not having it for a year. The move to Pinecraft was harder than I thought.” She shrugged. “And this isn’t all that I want—I hope that doesn’t sound greedy—but I’d love a garden up north. A real garden that I can walk around in barefoot and line up row after row.” Her voice filled with so much longing that the last words came out in a whisper.
Jonas couldn’t help but again think of her in his garden. And when he did he pictured Emma by Hope’s side. He’d come to Pinecraft to see Emma smile again, but her smile was never brighter than when she was with Hope.
“You know what I see when I look in your eyes?”
She shook her head and lowered her gaze to the bright green grass under her feet.
“I see gentleness and dedication. Intelligence and an eye for the simple things that most of us forget to pause and wonder at. I see a little girl, like Emma, who wasn’t content sitting in a sewing circle and just listening to the latest chatter. I see a daughter and sister who loves her family and walked away from where she felt comfortable and safe to be with them. I see a woman who is going to make a fine wife someday for the mere fact that she rejoices in new life and new seasons. And I see someone who is going to teach her children that it’s okay to be different and to trust who God made you to be.”
The words came too easily, and part of Jonas told himself to stop. His mind raced ahead, and he knew where he wanted this conversation to go. And from the look in Hope’s eyes she didn’t want him to stop either. She soaked up his words like parched ground soaked up water, and he knew if he continued there would be no going back, but at this moment Jonas couldn’t have kept the words in if he tried.
“This might be happening too fast, Hope, but I’ve learned not to waste a day. Life is too precious. You never know what a day will hold.
“After losing Sarah I never dreamed I’d want to open my heart to another again, but to tell you the truth, after meeting you that’s not my biggest worry. My biggest worry isn’t risking the chance of a broken heart. Instead it’s trying to imagine a future without you in it. I never imagined a more fitting person to welcome into Emma’s life.”
Hope’s eyebrows lifted as if she was taking everything in. And then her smile faded. “Into Emma’s life?” she questioned.
“Ja, you can imagine how hard it has been for me. It’s not myself that I think of first, but her. I’ve been praying for the perfect mother for my daughter—”
Hope’s brows furrowed and Jonas paused. What was wrong? Had he jumped to conclusions? Even though Hope cared about Emma, maybe she wasn’t ready to be a mother yet.
“Jonas, I wanted to hear those words. It’s gut to know that it’s not just my heart that is being drawn this direction. But when it comes to a relationship I want to be more than just someone’s—”
“Hope!” Lovina’s voice interrupted their conversation, and her sister strode around the corner. “There is a car waiting outside for you. Janet sent it. From what the driver said she’s not doing well. She fell while helping her daughter. She broke her hip and she’ll be going into surgery in the morning.”
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there a reason the driver is here?”
“You can talk to him, but from what he said, Janet sent for you because she wants to show you her mother’s garden before she goes into surgery. She wants to tell you more of the story—something that is not in the Victory Journal.”
“Ja, of course.” Hope turned to Jonas, but he noted tears in her eyes. Tears for her friend.
Compassion swelled in his chest, mixing with both care and confusion. Even though he’d confessed his heart, something was bothering Hope. Something only time and patience would reveal. “Do you want me to go with you, Hope?”
Hope nodded. She reached out her hand and he took it. “I’m not sure what to expect, but I want you to meet her. Janet—my friend—and her mother’s journal did so much to change my heart about the children. Maybe hearing her yourself will help you understand.”
Ranger Cookies
1 cup shortening
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup sugar
2 beaten eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
2 cups flour
½ tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
2 cups oatmeal
2 cups crisp rice cereal
1 cup coconut flakes
1 cup nuts
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream together the shortening, brown sugar, and sugar. Add the beaten eggs and vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, and add that to the sugar and eggs mixture. Stir in oatmeal, rice cereal, coconut flakes, and nuts. Drop heaping spoonfuls onto greased cookie sheet. Bake 7 to 9 minutes. Makes 4 dozen large cookies.*
* Sherry Gore, Simply Delicious Amish Cooking (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2013), 157.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A happy memory never wears out.
AMISH PROVERB
Hope looked out the window, nearly touching it with her nose as she looked to see where the driver was taking them. They drove toward the ocean, and the busy streets with gas stations and small strip malls transformed into a neighborhood of older homes. They were set back from the road by large lawns. Tree-lined paths also dotted the property. She’d never been in such a nice neighborhood, and she certainly couldn’t imagine living in one. Then, after driving a few more minutes, they came into a public area with a large garden, a picnic area, and a playground.
The driver turned in to the park, and Hope’s brow furrowed. “I thought we were going to Janet’s house,” she said under her breath. Just beyond the park was a large white house with a sweeping porch. The circle driveway was made of paving stones, and tall pine trees graced both sides of the entrance.
“Could this be Janet’s house, next to the park?” Hope asked Jonas.
“Yes, miss, this is her home,” the driver said, overhearing. “And that park used to be part of Ms. Spencer-Rushing’s property until it was gifted to the city as a community park.”
“Her property, a community park?” Hope turned back around in her seat at the realization of what the one small victory garden had become.
The car parked, and the driver opened the door for Hope. Jonas got out the other side and she joined him. Down the path Hope saw a wheelchair and she immediately recognized the older woman inside.
Janet waved them forward. “Come, you two. Please, I have so much to show you.”
Hope hurried forward and accepted Janet’s extended hand.
“Are you feeling well?” Hope asked, even though she could see Janet wasn’t. Her face was pale and dark circles hung under her eyes. She still wore a beautiful, colorful outfit, but her hair was done hastily, brushed back from her face and held back by a few bobby pins.
“It’s my hip,” Janet complained. “I was trying to carry a lunch tray to my daughter and I fell going upstairs.” Janet sighed. “Who in their right mind falls going up?”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Hope noticed Janet’s eyes moving to Jonas, and she turned to introduce him. “And this, Janet, is Jonas. He’s a friend and—”
A brightness filled Janet’s eyes. “And the handsome, unmarried schoolteacher.” She winked. “There isn’t much that happens in Pinecraft that I don’t hear about. Elizabeth does a wonderful job filling me in.”
“I’m glad to meet you, ma’am,” Jonas said. “Hope told me a bit about you on the drive here. You have a beautiful home.”
She clasped her hands together and smiled. “Jonas, would you push me? I’d like to go to the garden, which is truly more beautiful than my home.”
He began to push her down the sidewalk toward the garden, a
nd Hope followed. The path wove around, lined by small flower beds. “All of this used to be grass, can you imagine? So boring.” She waved her hand toward a small plot of strawberry plants. “As a child I used to run and play with my friends down the long green slope, but it wasn’t much use for anything other than that. Our lawn used to look like any other lawn in the neighborhood, but I like it so much better now. Don’t you?”
When they approached the garden area Hope noticed people squatting or standing among the rows and working. There were people of all ages, from young toddlers to older men. They were from all ethnicities too.
“Our first garden was just a fraction of this size, but over the years it has grown. I enjoy meeting all the folk who come to garden here, although these days it’s hard to remember everyone’s name.”
As they watched, a truck pulled up and parked. Two men moved to the back, opened the tailgate, and started to shovel out mulch.
Next to her Jonas shifted his weight from foot to foot. Hope looked at him. “Would it be all right if I went to help?”
“Of course I don’t mind.” Janet waved him forward. “It’ll give Hope and I more time to chat.”
Jonas hurried forward, rolling up his sleeves as he walked. Within no time he had his own shovel and was helping spread the mulch that the other two men were unloading.
“He looks like a special young man there,” Janet said.
“He is special, although he’s not going to be in Pinecraft too much longer. Jonas is only here to teach school for the semester. He’ll be heading back to Kentucky in April, but I have to say that I wouldn’t have the garden without him.”
“And what about you, Hope?” Janet looked up at her, blocking the sun with her hand.
Hope moved Janet to a shady spot and then sat down on a park bench facing her.
“I’m glad the garden is up and going, but I can’t imagine myself in Pinecraft—not long term. I miss the seasons up north. I miss the farms and sprawled-out Amish communities. I miss gardening and the cows and… ” Hope smiled. “Well, you understand.”
Janet nodded. “Hope, sometimes God calls us to a specific place, but other times He simply asks us to cast the vision. My mother is no longer with us, but her garden is. God has brought amazing people with knowledge and skill to help with this garden. Maybe the seeds you’ve planted with your garden will be harvested by someone else, and that’s fine too.”
“I have a feeling that’s the way it’s going to be. It’s bittersweet, ja?” Hope plucked a small leaf from a strawberry plant and turned it over in her hand. “Even as I plant the seeds and line up the rows I have a feeling someone else will be eating the produce.” She shrugged and ran her hands over her skirt. “My cousin Eleanor is interested in having me come and help with her children, her garden. I should know in a few months.”
“Even if you do leave, look what you started—just like this garden here.” Janet placed a hand to her cheek. “Oh my, my mother would have loved to see how this turned out.” She sighed.
“And just think, if it wasn’t for the war none of this would have happened. Who knows what would have happened to your mother… ” Hope wanted to ask about Henry, but she was almost afraid to. Either things didn’t work out with them and she’d be disappointed, or things had worked out and she’d ruin the rest of the journal. She never was one who read the last chapter of a book first.
“The way I see it there’s a war now that’s just as great a threat. It’s a threat to our communities. People don’t think about their neighbors anymore. They don’t even know their neighbors. I used to know every person up and down my street, but as the old folks have died or moved away new people moved it. They pull into their garages and quickly shut the doors. Or they put up fences and gates. They’re trying to protect themselves, so they say, but they’re missing out.” Janet rubbed her hip, but continued on.
“Children today watch more television than they play outside. Families eat in separate rooms of the house. That’s why I’m drawn to Pinecraft—drawn to the families there. Neighbors still know each other. They sit on front porches or meet at the park to chat. And that’s why I got so excited when Elizabeth told me about your garden. It took me back.” Janet paused and looked at Hope. “You remind me so much of her. You’d have liked my mother, and she would have liked you.”
Hope nodded. “I have a feeling I would.” Hope looked around again.
“We donated our garden to the city, but hearing about your garden reminded me of my mother’s first efforts, and I wanted to be a part of that. I know she’d like knowing that you read her story. Now I want to hear more of yours, especially if it has some romance. Romance books have always been my favorite.”
Hope rose and pushed Janet over to the rows of melons, hoping to get a better view of how they were growing.
“I’d love to share my story, but there isn’t much romance in it. Jonas and I do have a growing friendship.”
The disappointment was clear on Janet’s face. “I understand, but please tell me what you’ve learned—even if it’s not about love.”
“Well, because of your mother’s journal I decided to open up the garden to the community. Yesterday children from the Amish school came to help me. Jonas—as you know—is one of the teachers there.”
Hearing his name, Jonas approached. His hands and pants were covered in mulch, but a huge smile filled his face.
“Having the garden open to the community is better than I expected,” Hope continued. “I thought I loved gardening before, but I’m discovering new things to enjoy now. Like yesterday, I realized that gardening can be enjoyed by all ages. We had a gardener who’d been gardening for sixty years, at least, and today we had children who were doing it for the first time. And for both the process is the same—digging the soil, planting the seed, watering.”
“Sort of like prayer,” Jonas cut in.
“Excuse me?” Hope asked.
“I was thinking about that when I heard Emma praying the other night,” Jonas explained. “Ruth Ann sometimes prays aloud while she’s cooking, and Emma picked it up. She was talking to God as if He was sitting right there next to her, and it reminded me of my grandmother. Even when she tried to pray silently, her lips always moved and I’d watch them, trying to figure out what she was saying. Anyone, any age can come to God.”
“I suppose we’re the ones who try to make things more complicated.”
Janet leaned back in the chair and lifted her face to the breeze. “You two are so wise for being so young.” She chuckled. “It took me many years to figure all this out.”
Hope wanted to tell Janet about Jonas’s loss. There was no doubt that as he drew closer to God for comfort and strength, he was changed too.
“I’ve learned that if it’s not a matter of life and death, it’s not worth fighting about… and it’s not worth putting a barrier between you and the one you love,” said Janet. “Which brings me to the story of the children.”
“The children?” Hope asked.
“Remember when we had lunch I told you that the garden would have an effect on the children? When school started in 1942 my mother got an idea. She got those in my class involved in helping with the harvest. And the best part was that all of them took home a lot of produce that fall. With so much rationing it was a huge blessing for those families. Even now when I talk to old schoolmates they always mention the garden.”
“Well, I suppose our idea wasn’t too unique then?”
“Just goes to show that a good idea is timeless.” Janet smiled again, but weariness was clear on her face.
“Thank you, Janet, for inviting us. Seeing all this has confirmed what God has been telling me,” said Hope.
Jonas wheeled Janet back to the house, and a nurse was waiting next to the ramp by the front door.
“There you are,” the nurse called. “I was just coming to get you for a nap.”
They said a quick goodbye and then the driver pulled up to take them home.
“Ja, she is special.” Jonas reached over and placed his hand on Hope’s. “And speaking of special ladies, I think you’re one, too, Hope. Would you like to come over to my sister’s house tomorrow night? I already talked to Ruth Ann. She will watch Emma so you and I can spend some time together. I’d love to get to know you better.”
“Ja, Jonas. Danke.”
The sunshine filling her up inside seemed brighter than that outside the car window. She’d never planned on having a garden in Pinecraft. She’d never planned on meeting someone like Janet. She never planned on being pursued by someone like Jonas, and for the first time in a long time Hope was thankful that her plans hadn’t worked out.
June 12, 1942
Eight army fliers were killed when a bomber crashed into Sarasota Bay. I heard there were others injured, but I’m not sure how many. The news has rattled all of us. That’s all everyone can talk about. The workers at the garden today were somber. All of us are thinking of those men’s families. All of us are thinking of our own.
Hearing about those deaths has helped me to make a decision. I’m going to tell Henry I love him. He’s told me twice, and I haven’t been sure of it myself. But today, as I thought about the men who lost their lives, all I could think about was having Henry close—not just today but every day of my life. I think this is a sign of love. And I’m going to tell Henry tonight. Lord, please don’t let me lose him too. I’m not sure my heart can handle it.
Every Small Thing
Rare indeed is the day when a modern housewife could not find in her refrigerator all sorts of odds and ends in the way of food. And it is these leftovers that challenge the imagination of the alert homemaker. She has learned the importance of their utilization for food value as well as economy. She knows, for instance, that the liquids from cooked or canned vegetables are full of vitamins and minerals, and so they go into cocktails and soups instead of down the sink. She has become aware of the value of saving everything from peapods to grapefruit and melon rinds and of preparing and presenting them at the table with eye and appetite appeal.
